First Christmas (as a couple)
by TearStainedAshes
Summary: John and Sherlock celebrate their first Christmas as a couple. Part 2 of 10 of the Let's Write Sherlock Winter Series Prompts.


Yeah, I know. This is a Christmas story published in March. I don't care.

Part 2 of 10 for the Let's Write Sherlock winter prompt challenge. Prompt 2: Gift Giving.

Sherlock is a cutie-patootie in this fic. He's a great boyfriend ^_^

* * *

Sherlock and John began dating soon after the snowed in incident. Well, maybe dating wasn't the correct term. It was more like they would sometimes sit down and eat lunch or dinner together and sometimes Sherlock would massage John's leg or shoulder after a particularly grueling day at the surgery. They hadn't actually discussed what had happened between them, but John was fairly comfortable with where their relationship was and where it might go.

Sherlock, despite his calm exterior, was a nervous wreck inside. He'd never been in a relationship remotely close to what he had with John. There had been Victor in Uni, but he only used him for the drugs he provided. That ended when he'd overdosed and Mycroft had taken care of his "arrangement" with the boy. But with John, things were so different. In the best way possible of course. John was so accepting and open and caring. He was honestly the best thing to ever happen to him. Now Christmas was approaching and Sherlock was getting more and more anxious the closer the date approached. He hadn't gotten John anything, and he feared it was too late to get him a gift. Then he remembered what he'd promised him and a bright smile spread across his features. When John was at work he gingerly grabbed the book of the shelf and packed it in a box. He called a cab and gave the driver the address of his contact who dealt with antique books. He stood outside the shop for a moment before stepping inside, the smell of old books comforting and overpowering at the same time.

'Sherlock Holmes.' He looked up and saw the owner staring down at him from a ladder perched against a shelf, her dark hair pulled back in a messy bun like always.

'Miss Addleston.' He smiled softly as she climbed down. She dusted her hands off on her jeans and grinned at him, her glasses sliding down her nose.

'It's been a long time,' she said. 'What brings you by my shop this time?'

'I need a favour.'

'Oh?' She walked over, pushing her glasses back up on her nose. 'What sort of favour?'

'You still do book restoration, yes?'

'Of course.'

'Well, I need you to restore this.' He showed her the box and lifted the lid. She peered inside and gasped.

'Is that-?'

'Yes.'

'Oh my god.' She looked back up at him. 'May I?'

'Of course. Just be gentle.'

'Of course.' She picked the book up out of the box and held it gingerly in her hands. 'It's a first edition. A _rare_ first edition. The cover is coming apart from the binding and there's some water damage, but otherwise it's in fairly decent condition.' She looked back up at Sherlock. 'What do you want me to do with it?'

'I want you to restore it to the best of your abilities. As a gift for... a friend.'

She smirked knowingly. 'A friend? You and I both know you don't have friends, Sherlock Holmes. You have people who owe you favours. Now what is this really about?'

Sherlock groaned and rolled his eyes. 'If you weren't a shop owner you'd make a good detective. Fine. You got me. It's for my... lover.'

She laughed and shook her head. 'Are you putting me on?'

'No.'

'Is it your partner? The one you work with? The blonde?'

'Yes.'

'I knew it. I fucking knew it.'

'What?'

'You know, for a man who makes a living through powerful observations, you can be really blind.'

'I don't understand.'

'You should get that on a t-shirt.'

'Shut up.'

She grinned. 'I meant that you and your "friend" were having eye sex the entire time you were investigating my shop. And you sent lingering looks at each other when you thought the other wasn't looking.'

'Well, yeah. We finally pulled our heads out of our arses. We've been together for a few weeks now.'

'Congratulations.'

'Yeah. Thanks. So, the book is for him. He's had it since he was a child. It's very precious to him.'

'And you wanted to get it restored for him as a gift?'

'Yes.' Miss Addleston smiled at him. 'What?'

'You've changed, Sherlock Holmes. Your partner has softened you. I like it.'

'I'd appreciate it if you didn't spread it around.'

'Your secret's safe with me.'

'Good. So... can you restore the book?'

'I'll work my magic. When do you want it done by?'

'Before Christmas. I want it to be a gift for him.'

'I'll see what I can do. I'll call you when it's finished.'

'Alright. Thank you, Miss Addleston.'

'You're very welcome, Sherlock Holmes.'

**...::-::...**

The book was ready only days before Christmas. Sherlock was surprised John hadn't noticed its absence, but then again they had been handed a glorious murder case and had been keeping them occupied for the better part of a week now. So between John's hours at the surgery and his hours dedicated to helping Sherlock stop a serial killer before Christmas, he was rather busy. They were still in the middle of the case when Sherlock got the call about the book. He sent Miss Addleston a quick text saying he'd pick it up as soon as he was able, but now really wasn't a good time. She said that was fine, but to pick it up before Christmas Eve as she was going on holiday. Sherlock was more determined than ever to solve the murder before he completely mucked up Christmas.

He finally solved it the day before Christmas Eve. John was asleep, exhausted from his long hours at the surgery and from chasing the suspect through London for half the night before he effectively gave them the slip. Sherlock had punched a wall in frustration and John had had to wrap his knuckles and put a finger in a splint. So much for not mucking up Christmas. But as he paced the floor, searching his memories for any clues that might lead him to where the killer would strike next, he realised the man wouldn't be attacking again, if ever. He realised the connection and called Lestrade, explaining the man they were looking for was seeking revenge for the unexpected and completely preventable death of his daughter. The victims had all been on the same girl's medical staff, and the father had taken it into his own hands when the law wouldn't do anything for the death of his daughter. Lestrade and the team apprehended him in his own home and took him into custody only a few hours later. With that solved, Sherlock pulled his coat on and went back to the bookshop to pick up his gift for John.

**...::-::...**

Christmas finally arrived and Sherlock was excited about the holiday for the first time in decades. While he and John had spent some Christmases together before, it had never been like this. He woke slowly, his mind hazy from sleep and his body warm and comfortable wrapped up in his sheets, John pressed against his back. He could hear soft wuffles coming from his lover as he slept peacefully. Sherlock smiled to himself and rolled over as gently as he could, not wanting to wake John just yet. He put his head on his shoulder and nuzzled his neck. John's head lolled to the side so it unconsciously rested on Sherlock's.

'Hey,' Sherlock whispered, nuzzling John's neck again. 'Wake up. It's Christmas.' John grunted in reply and turned over to burrow into Sherlock's warmth.

'Dun wanna wake up,' he mumbled. 'Warm.' Sherlock chuckled and wrapped his arms around his doctor.

'But I actually got you a present this year.' John peeled an eye open at that.

'You did?'

'Yes. It's our first Christmas as a couple. I wanted it to be special.'

John began waking and nuzzled Sherlock's jaw. 'You didn't have to get me anything.'

'I wanted to. And it was evident you got me something as well given how secretive you've been lately. It would have looked poorly on me if I hadn't gotten you a gift in return.'

John hummed in agreement but made no move to get up.

'I just wanna stay here a bit longer. It's warm, and you're comfy.'

'Alright.' Sherlock kissed the top of John's head and nuzzled at his hair. 'I love you.'

'I love you, too. Happy Christmas, Sherlock.'

'Happy Christmas, John.'

They stayed in bed for another half hour before John woke up completely. They kissed lazily before getting up and taking a shower, where they snogged some more. Once out of the shower though, sopping wet and slightly shivering, Sherlock deposited John on their bed and kissed his way down his torso, licking up stray water droplets along the way. He loved how John now smelled of _his_ expensive body wash and shampoo and not his cheap department store brands. He loved that John now willingly took showers with him and that he was sometimes allowed to wash him and that he sometimes allowed John to wash his hair. He loved the noises John made as he worked his way down his stomach, gently nipping at the sensitive flesh just below his belly button. He loved when John tangled his fingers in his still damp hair and pushed him down toward his straining erection. He especially loved the loud moan of appreciation John made when he finally took his cock into his mouth and swallowed it down without protest. He sucked John at a leisurely pace, not wanting to rush things.

'Sher-' John choked out after a few minutes of slow torture. 'Oh god. Please. Faster.'

Sherlock hummed and sucked John harder, bobbing his head faster. John cried out and his nails dug into Sherlock's scalp. His grip tightened when he neared release and he cried a garbled version of Sherlock's name as he came. Sherlock felt his lover's cum hit the back of his throat and he swallowed everything, sucking languidly on John's softening cock to make sure he cleaned up every last drop. John grunted and gently pushed back on Sherlock's head.

'Lock. I'm good. Stop before you start something I won't be able to finish.'

Sherlock released John and licked his lips, grinning down at his debauched lover.

'What was that about?' John asked when he caught Sherlock's gaze.

'Happy Christmas.'

'Was that your gift to me?'

'No. That was a spur-of-the-moment gift. I did get you a physical present. So don't worry.'

'I wasn't worried.'

'I know.'

They chuckled and John grunted as he sat up. He kissed Sherlock softly, tasting traces of himself on Sherlock's tongue, humming when the kiss ended.

'Thank you. It was a great spur-of-the-moment gift.'

'You're welcome. I'm glad you liked it.'

'Oh, I more than liked it.' He waggled his eyebrows playfully and smirked.

'Oh, I know.' Sherlock smirked right back at him.

'So, can I return the favour?'

'Later. After food and presents.'

'Ah. I see. Well, let's get somewhat dressed and have a light breakfast before we open our gifts.'

Sherlock nodded and got off the bed, towelling off his hair before pulling on his favoured lounging clothes, which were just a ratty t-shirt and his pyjama pants that matched his favourite blue dressing gown. He bothered to put on socks that particular morning because the floors were cold and he hated it when his feet were cold. John snickered when he saw the overly fluffy socks on Sherlock's feet but said nothing. He put on an old tee of his own and a fresh pair of boxers before pulling on his Bilbo Baggins inspired dressing gown. Sherlock chuckled and shook his head.

'What?' John asked.

'Nothing. That gown suits you.'

'Really?'

'Yes. It makes you look all plush and cuddly.' Sherlock hugged him and hummed. 'Oh yes. Definitely cuddly.'

'I never thought I'd live to hear you say I look cuddly,' John said, chuckling.

'You've softened me, John Watson,' Sherlock murmured. 'I'm not as cold and closed off as I used to be. It's a work in progress, but you are steadily thawing me out.'

'Oh? Well, don't change too much. I love you for you. Don't go changing to try and please me.'

'Of course not.' Sherlock pulled away but not before kissing the top of John's head. 'Come on. I want to watch you cook for me.'

John laughed and traipsed into the kitchen. He pulled out eggs and bacon, which he was surprised to see they had, and got a frying pan out. He bustled about the kitchen as he prepared their breakfast, first the bacon so the eggs could be cooked in the bacon grease. Sherlock kept stealing pieces of bacon until John slapped his hand away with the spatula.

'Pour us some juice if you want to be useful,' he said.

'We don't have any.'

'Then make the tea.'

'Fine.' Sherlock filled the kettle and set it down on its stand, clicking it on so the water would boil. He continued to watch John scramble their eggs, his movements swift and precise. When they were finally done, Sherlock handed John his mug of tea and clinked it with his.

'Happy Christmas.'

'Happy Christmas.' John sat down and handed Sherlock his breakfast. They ate in a comfortable silence, their knees and feet occasionally bumping against one another. Sherlock finished first and impatiently waited for John to be done, his knee bouncing rapidly.

'What's your hurry?' John asked.

'Presents,' Sherlock answered, his face splitting into an excited grin.

'This is because you want to get to the presents?'

'Of course! I actually have presents!'

'You've never gotten presents at Christmas before?' John frowned and his brow furrowed.

'Not for a while,' Sherlock clarified. 'I did as a child, but as I got older I found the idea of exchanging gifts in celebration of an impossible deity's impossible child completely ridiculous and idiotic. So I stopped "celebrating." I didn't even participate when you came along. Until now.'

'Because you love me?' John guessed, his frown turning into a small smile.

'Yes. Because I love you. And also because I got you a... What's the phrase? I got you a gift so amazing it will blow your mind?'

'You got me a mind-blowing present?' John raised an eyebrow in surprise.

'Yes. That.'

'Huh. Well, I like to think I got you a pretty mind-blowing gift too.' He smirked before biting into a piece of bacon. Sherlock stole a piece off his plate but he didn't mind.

'Go start a fire if you're getting antsy,' John said after a few minutes. 'Get the room warmed up.'

'OK.' Sherlock dashed into the sitting room and put some logs in the fireplace. He crumpled up some newspapers to help stoke the fire before he tossed in a few matches. John finished his breakfast while he watched Sherlock keep up the fire so it wouldn't go out before it was self-sustaining. He put their dishes in the sink and refilled their mugs of tea before joining Sherlock.

'Tea?' He held Sherlock's mug out and smiled.

'Thanks.' Sherlock accepted the tea and sat down on the floor in front of the fire. John joined him and they sipped at their tea for a few moments before Sherlock's excitement returned.

'Presents?' he asked, his eyes dancing.

'Yes,' John said, chuckling. 'Time for presents.'

Sherlock scrambled over to their little tree and grabbed the two presents that sat there. He was so excited he didn't even try to deduce what John had gotten him. He passed John his gift and smiled widely at him.

'Open it,' he said. John laughed and shook his head.

'You're ridiculous.' He pecked Sherlock on the lips before he could retort. 'I love you.'

'Love you too. Now open it.'

'Pushy.' John took the present, immaculately wrapped in cheery Christmas paper (obviously Mrs Hudson's). He tore at the paper to reveal a black, wooden box. He raised an eyebrow at Sherlock. He didn't give anything away. So John opened the box and gasped when he saw his _Hobbit_ book inside.

'You had it restored?' he asked, his voice a quiet whisper.

'Yes,' Sherlock said equally as quiet. 'I told you I would. I got in contact with my friend and she repaired it for me. Well, for you, but you know what I mean.'

'This is... It's perfect.' John picked up the book and put the box on the floor. He turned the book over in his hands, amazed at the restoration and how the book looked as close to as good as new as it could get. He opened the front cover and grinned when he heard the spine crackle for the first time in years. He looked up at Sherlock and felt his chest tighten from the sheer amount of love he felt for the man. He put the book down and crawled over to Sherlock, straddling his lap so he could pull him down for a passionate kiss.

'Thank you,' he whispered against Sherlock's lips when they pulled away. 'It's perfect. I love it. I love _you_.'

'You're very welcome,' Sherlock said, kissing John again. 'And I love you too.'

'Best present ever.'

'Really?'

'Yes. Hands down.'

'Oh.' Sherlock beamed happily with pride.

'Yes. Oh.' John kissed him again, his tongue sliding into his mouth. Sherlock's hands slid up his top and his fingernails dug into his skin. They began rutting against each other, small whimpers leaving Sherlock quite frequently. John broke the kiss, Sherlock whining in protest.

'Let me return that glorious blow job you gave me this morning,' John whispered huskily. 'Let me make you feel good.'

'Yes,' Sherlock moaned. 'Please. Yes.'

'Lie back,' John instructed. Sherlock flopped back, his arms outstretched behind his head, his top riding up and exposing his lower stomach. John hummed and nibbled at the tender flesh just below his lover's belly button. Sherlock keened and wriggled in protest.

'Patience,' John said. He grabbed the Union Jack pillow off his chair and positioned it under Sherlock's lower back. He then took Sherlock's trousers down so they rested on his thighs. He mouthed at the bulge in Sherlock's silk boxers, Sherlock whining and moaning at the teasing.

'I said patience,' John said sternly. He spread Sherlock's thighs apart and mouthed at his sac. Sherlock gasped and whined loudly, his legs shaking from the sensations traveling through his body. His cock thickened against his stomach and beads of precum dripped onto his abdomen. John chuckled against sac, sending more shivers through Sherlock.

'John,' Sherlock whispered. 'Please.'

John chuckled again and pulled Sherlock's trousers all the way down. Once his legs were free, Sherlock spread his thighs wide and thrust upward, his cock bouncing on his stomach.

'Please,' he whispered. John wasted no time in getting his lips around his lover's gorgeous cock. He suckled on the head and Sherlock's hips jumped. John pressed his hips to the floor and sucked more of him down, bobbing his head as Sherlock's cock began sliding into his throat. He knew Sherlock wouldn't last long given how his legs were trembling and how tightly his eyes were scrunched shut. His cock was pulsing in his mouth and soon enough the bitter taste of cum flooded over his tongue.

Sherlock had known he wouldn't last long. He never was very good at containing his orgasms after he'd been teased thoroughly. He could feel his orgasm building, tightly coiled in the pit of his stomach. He came with a garbled cry of John's name mixed with some profanities. He collapsed boneless on the floor, his legs twitching madly and his cock softening in John's mouth. John released him and his cock landed on his stomach with an obscenely wet slap.

'You're welcome,' John said, smirking smugly as he licked his lips. He pulled Sherlock's trousers back up, quirking an eyebrow in concern when Sherlock didn't respond. He laughed when a soft snore escaped the younger man's lips. He nudged Sherlock's shoulder and he jumped awake, his eyes wide in confusion.

'Wuz I asleep?' he slurred out.

'Only for a few seconds,' John answered, chuckling. 'Did you really cum that hard?'

'Yeah. Tends to happen sometimes.' Sherlock groaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes. 'I could really use some more tea.'

'Sure thing.' John stood and went to the kettle and poured Sherlock a fresh cup of tea. He knelt down beside him when he returned to the sitting room and held the cup to his lips. Sherlock sipped at the tea slowly, not wanting to burn his tongue. Eventually his head cleared and he took the mug from John, finishing the tea and humming as he warmed from the inside out.

'Thanks,' he said softly. 'Sorry for passing out on you.'

'You're welcome. And it's fine. You said it tends to happen?'

'Yeah. Usually only if I haven't cum in a while or my orgasm has been dragged out. I think it happened this time because of the anticipation of you returning that blow job I gave you earlier.'

'Ah. Well, I'll try to keep your orgasms regular and I won't drag them out too often.'

'You can make me black out from pleasure all you want,' Sherlock assured him. 'Just let me come to on my own terms, yeh? That's how my brain reboots.'

'OK. Sure. So, do you want to open your presents now?'

'Yes!' Sherlock bounced on the spot like an excited child. 'Please!'

'OK. Just get comfortable and I'll get it.' Sherlock nodded and scootched back until he was propped up against his chair. John crawled over to the nearly forgotten present and picked it up so he could plop it down onto Sherlock's lap. He sat back against his own chair and sipped at his tea as Sherlock tore at the paper.

Sherlock couldn't hide his excited grin as he held his present in his hands. The paper was actually quite nice. No childish depictions of a fat man in a garish red suit, nor flying reindeer with red noses. Just a deep green with red and white stripes. He tore at the paper with a childlike fervor, grinning like an idiot the whole time. It wasn't until he saw the label on the box that he realised what John had bought him. He gasped and held a hand to his mouth, staring up at John.

'Do you like it?' John asked softly. Sherlock nodded, unable to speak at the moment. John had purchased him a brand new chemistry set. And not one of those cheap sets you purchase for children. This one was a legitimate professional chemistry set. New beakers, new flask, new test tubes, all in a variety of sizes.

'It isn't too much, is it?' John asked when Sherlock still hadn't spoken for nearly five minutes.

'What?' Sherlock looked up and hugged the box to his chest. 'No. No. It's perfect. Absolutely perfect.'

'But?' John prodded. 'I sense a "but" coming.'

'I...' Sherlock bit his bottom lip. 'You didn't have to go to this much trouble for me. This must have cost a small fortune. I'm hardly worth it.'

'Shush,' John said sternly. He scootched forward and took Sherlock's face in his hands. 'You are worth every pence I spend on you and every second I spend with you. I wanted to get this for you because not only did I know you would love it, but I know that you're running out of this sort of stuff. I've heard the crashes and breaking glass and you swearing. So I bought you some more equipment. It was worth the price because I know you'll use it and it will get its money's worth out of it.'

'How much-?' John held a finger to Sherlock's lips.

'That's not important,' he said softly. 'Now kiss me and we can relax in front of the fire for a while and drink hot chocolate.'

Sherlock nodded and set the box of science equipment down beside him, away from the fire. He allowed John to pull him in for a kiss and hummed into his lover's mouth. When they broke apart they were slightly out of breath. John pecked Sherlock on the nose and stood to pour them more tea. Sherlock moved the box into the kitchen, setting it on the table. He used the loo quickly before joining John in the sitting room to laze about.

A phone call from Lestrade interrupted their lazy day plans. A double homicide had occurred right in the heart of London. John nodded and Sherlock dashed up to get dressed. John shook his head and sighed. There was no better present than a murder for Christmas.

* * *

Part 2 is finally done. Part 3 will be a bit shorter as I'm using the prompt Lazing About. It should hopefully be up soon(ish), but I'm still writing it. But hopefully by the end of the month.

And for those who might be wondering, Ms Addleston is supposed to be me ;)


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